


Drawn To You

by cadkitten



Category: Black Veil Brides, Dir en grey
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sounding, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can still remember that day so very clearly; the day I met <i>him</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawn To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thehiddenlight](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thehiddenlight), [Tcharlatan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tcharlatan/gifts).



> Beta Readers: dklc23  
> Song[s]: " The Mortician's Daughter" by Black Veil Brides

I can still remember that day so very clearly; the day I met _him_. We were in the same town on the same night. A random happenstance for a couple of traveling musicians, truly. We both somehow decided we needed to go shopping that evening before our shows, and we ended up in the same store. Maybe it sounds stupid, perhaps a little bit lame… but I almost feel like fate threw us together that night. We reached for the same red flannel at the exact same time. It was the last one left in our size. In the end, I let him take it, knowing well that I had more than enough resources to find myself another somewhere else. Another time, another place.

But before he left, he took a chance and gave me his number. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly; him having no idea who I was, and me knowing exactly who he was. Brave, if I do say so myself. And I accepted it with a grace that I honestly don’t normally have. See… I try to deny the truth about myself at times, at least in an outward manner. But that night, I just took his number with a smile and told him I’d call.

It took me almost a month to do it, but one night, I finally made that call. Naturally he sounded confused when he answered the call, the number from Japan. But the moment he connected the dots, I heard the pleasure in his voice, the lilting ring to it. I could imagine him sitting curled up on his bed at home, the early morning sun peeking through the window, falling on his pale white skin. I imagined it like he was just out of post-concert bliss, that sleepy and gorgeous look on his face, his blue eyes still unfocused, sheets pooling around his lap, a gentle tent to the covers from a bit of a morning problem.

We talked for a long time, getting to actually know one another. He likes comic books and the smell of ozone, his favorite color is claimed to be black to the public and on a personal level it’s actually purple, though he hides it because it’s not a manly color. I told him all about Kaoru and told him he’s one of the most manly men I know, color has nothing to do with it. And from there we sort of clicked.

It was two calls before I finally admitted to him who I was. He laughed because he’d already done the research and knew just fine who he’d been speaking with the whole time. The fact that he’d never once brought it up, that it didn’t matter to him, was one of my biggest factors for why I tried so hard to make things work between us, despite the giant distance.

Months have gone by since then and we talk to one another at least twice a week, if not every single day. He’s made an agreement with some girl to look like she’s his girlfriend and I’ve spoken with her a few times, though she has no name or face to me, just a voice. She’s nice enough and basically regards Andy as her friend. And it leaves him free to do whatever he wants with me without anyone suspecting they need to look further for the person he’s with. It’s helpful given his age, the fact that he’s sixteen years my junior, and that if we ever got caught it probably wouldn’t look so good to the media. Granted, he’s well past being of age, but still it looks a bit like I’m robbing the cradle.

We’ve spent nights just sitting together on webcam, watching cheesy movies or playing cards with one another. It’s the simplest things that make us the happiest. But the nights that no one could survive a relationship without… those nights, when we’re both craving to be close to one another, for the touch that we’ve only ever had once before in the past… those are the nights we yearn for. It’s the bane of every long distance relationship, I suppose, having to deal with never seeing your lover in person, to live with only your own touch in pretense of it being theirs.

Tonight is our half-year meeting point. He jokingly called it an anniversary and we had a good laugh over how girly we sounded by knowing such a thing. But then, that’s a generalization, isn’t it? Why can’t men like those sort of things as well? But that point aside, we’ve set up the most romantic thing we could think of to do together. We’ve cooked the same dish, him all the way in the United States and me here in Japan. Candles and incense, dim lights and pretense. If only it were a step closer, if only we ended up in the same room.

It’s raining tonight, the soft pitter-patter of rain on the window something of a comfort. I’ve dressed up like I’m going out on a huge romantic date. My best underwear, newest pair of Chrome Hearts jeans, and the silver silk shirt he says looks so damn good on me. Settling down at my table, I crack open the matching wine to the one he has and wait on his call to come in on my laptop.

At one past eleven, his call beeps on my laptop and I reach over to press the answer button. The first sight to greet me is his face so close to the camera and that goofy-ass smile. “Hey! Sorry I’m a bit late.” His eyes sparkle as he peers through the camera at me. His hair is a huge poofy mess and I have to smirk a little. It’s endearing that it sticks up in every which way, the way mine used to all those years ago. 

“It’s fine, you’re only a minute late.” I give him a teasing smile and gesture at the table in front of me. “Ready for our date?”

He gives me a thoughtful look and then there’s some rustling as the camera gets moved. As I wait on him to get things straightened up, my doorbell rings. He’s still rustling around and I sigh. “I told no one to interrupt me tonight, but someone’s at my door, I’ll be right back.”

He appears for a moment and grins at me. “That’s fine. I’ll be right here!”

I get up from the table, my fingertips brushing over the screen briefly, wishing like hell I could touch that gorgeous face for real. It’s been too long. Longing pangs deep in my heart as I head for the door, sighing as I peer out the peephole. All I can see is black hair; probably Toshiya or something. I open the door, a questioning look on my face. “What did you-“ the words die on my lips as I stare at the one person I never expected to see on my doorstep.

The click of a laptop closing greets my ears and a moment later, my arms are full of _him_. My Andy. My sweet, gorgeous Andy. I pull him inside and shut the door behind him, pushing his bags off his shoulders and onto the floor. His laptop goes on the table by the door, and a moment later he’s attached to me, his arms tight around me, face buried in my now-red hair. I hold him so tight I feel like I might break him, my heart throbbing in my chest in an almost painful sort of manner. He’s here… he’s really here. Right here in my arms. If I had a little less control over my emotions, I’d be in tears.

Pulling back from him, I stare up into his eyes and frame his face with my hands. “You’re here,” I offer him, a simple statement that tells so much.

He beams up at me, his piercings glinting faintly in the light. “I am. And I take it you’re happy to see me.” He leans in, an evil look in his eyes, and he whispers in my ear, “That or you have a salami in your pants.”

I’ll never get tired of his dirty sense of humor. Grinning a bit stupidly, I slide my hand down his arm, taking his hand in my own. “No salami yet, but I promise you that it’s waiting on you.” I lead him back to the kitchen and settle down on the chair, closing my laptop and pushing it away. “You’re so lucky I made enough for left overs.”

He leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my lips, his fingers gently under my chin. “I told you the recipe with double the amount on purpose, silly.” He presses another kiss to my lips and I reach up to capture a small handful of his hair, keeping him in place for a slightly better taste of my lover.

When he pulls back this time, he just grins at me and settles down on my lap, languidly leaning back against me, his hand running over my arm, feeling the silk of my shirt. “I’d have regretted this if I hadn’t done it. I took the time off and here I am. I’m all yours for a week.” He tilts his head back and beams at me. “And I’ll just be honest with you. I don’t intend to leave your side at all for the entire time.”

My arm slips around his waist and I just sit there, a stupid grin on my face as I reach for the knife to cut the chicken he had me fix. He picks up the fork and stabs it into the meat, holding it in place while I cut. It’s awkward, but sincerely romantic, and I feel almost ridiculous in how completely amazing this is. He doesn’t budge for all of dinner, simply eating half of what I had on my plate, drinking straight from the bottle of wine while I drink from my glass. He may be young, but I’ve always said being a musician makes you grow up faster than anyone else, and you can feel the age in him, the habits of an older man, the aches of it as well.

I slide my hand up over his ribs thinking of his injury a few months back. “Have your ribs healed well enough?” I ask him, having a purpose for it, but pretending like I don’t in the same breath.

“Ask what you actually want to know, Die.” He’s grinning at me from behind the wine bottle, those piercing blue eyes staring into my own.

“Can you fuck?” 

The simplicity of the statement puts an even bigger smile on his face and he immediately slams the rest of the bottle, putting it down on the table and standing up, holding out his hand. “You think I’d have come all this way and not been able to?” He shakes his head. “Foolish.”

I take his hand and he leads me from the room, tugging me into my own bedroom.

“You know, it doesn’t even feel foreign. I’ve seen it so many times already that it feels like I’m home.” He lets go of my hand and walks backward toward the bed, reaching for his tight black shirt and slowly peeling it over his head, tossing it on the floor and reaching for his pants as his knees hit the bed. “I have a surprise for you, Die. Come here and find out.”

Eagerly, I close the distance between us and reach for his pants. Much like the first time, I find myself already hardening in my pants. I’d anticipated the evening to end up in here, but I’d also figured it would be my own touch I’d end up with. This is so much better that I almost feel like a giddy teenager as I unbutton his jeans and lower the zipper on his pants. He’s wearing silver boxers that match my top and I can’t help but chuckle as I dip my hand inside, cupping his length through the material.

His hips buck into my hand and he lets out a soft groan. “C’mon, Die… c’mon… god I’m so ready for you. Don’t tease me!”

The eagerness of youth… it makes me even harder and I find myself impatient to get down to business as well. I squeeze his dick and then reach for his boxers, pushing them down his slender legs, both garments pooling at his feet. He steps out of them and I find myself with his cock right in my face. It’s a glorious sight and the first thing I notice is the shining silver ball at the top and the two bands of silver wrapped around the shaft. I give him a curious look and reach for it, lightly stroking over his length. “Is this my surprise?”

He grunts as I touch him, hips thrusting erratically into my hand for a few moments. He’s worked up so very much and it’s incredibly obvious. A little smirk comes over my lips as I lean in, pressing a kiss to the tip. He moans and it’s music to my ears. My tongue flicks out over the little ball and then coats the head in my saliva. “I’m waiting, Andy… you didn’t answer me.”

“Yes, god yes, it’s your fucking present. Jesus _fuck_ , Die! Just suck me!” His hands are in my hair, tugging frantically at my strands and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my throat. Precious, absolutely precious. My lips press to the head of his cock and I flick my tongue over it a few more times before letting him in, swallowing as much of him as I possibly can before drawing back up. “Mmm… I’ll let you blow your load if you promise to suck me in return.”

“Anything you want!” His hips buck wildly in the air and I wonder at the lack of restraint. It’s so obvious he’s been playing good for me, not fooling around with how very desperate he is for this. My smile only gets wider as I lean in, looking up into his pleading blue eyes. After another moment of sweet, sweet torture, I take him back in my mouth, my hands sliding up to his hips, holding on as I work him with all my years of experience. He calms down considerably as he realizes that I know what I’m doing and he doesn’t have to try to direct me to what he wants or needs.

It doesn’t take him but a few minutes before his grip on my hair tightens and his moans grow louder, longer. He’s teetering on the edge, his thighs trembling with the effort of holding back. At long last, he gives a sharp cry, hips bucking forcefully into my mouth as he starts to cum. For a moment, I’m startled, nothing coming into my mouth, and then I remember the sounding rod tucked neatly inside him. He’s whining and I sit back, reaching to quickly unscrew the little ball from the top. Cum oozes out over my fingertips as he sighs in relief, a look of utter bliss on his face.

I let him finish, gently guiding him to sit on the bed behind him, and then settle down between his thighs, carefully removing the rings holding the rod around his cock, setting them and the little ball to the side. Carefully, lovingly, I remove the sounding rod from his length, pressing it to my lips and sucking the rest of his cum from it before I set it aside as well. I lick up the mess he’s made on my hand and his own body, finally sitting back when he’s clean. I gaze up at him for a moment before I finally stand up and slowly unbutton my shirt, giving him a good show of it.

By the time my pants are on the floor behind me, he’s jacking himself off again, his eyes on my dick. I remember those days so fondly, the days when I could have jerked it at least three times in a day and still been up for more, sometimes literally. He slides one long leg up on the bed, opening himself to my view, and I reach for the lube on my dresser, tossing it to him. I don’t say a word, just giving him a look that clearly tells him where my dick will eventually end up.

He moans as he jerks off faster for a moment, finally letting go and squirting some of the lube onto his fingertips. He pushes his fingers back behind his balls and with a soft gasp, I watch as two disappear into his body.

“Mmm… that’s right, just like that. Just like you do for me on camera.” I lean down and catch his lips in a needy kiss. I pull his other hand from his dick and put it on my own, showing him how I like to be stroked before letting go and letting him do his own thing. For a long few minutes, we just kiss while he works us both, my hands stroking over his shoulders and his hair.

Eventually, I move away from the kiss and push his hand away. “Mouth. Now.”

He groans as he pulls his fingers free of his body and slides off the bed onto the floor. His hands rest on my hips as he leans in, nuzzling my length, his hot breath ghosting over it as he seems to just want to claim me as his own before doing anything else. I let him take his own time with it, knowing he’s enjoying this because of how hard he is and how his dick bobs ever so slightly every few seconds as his muscles contract.

When he does take me into his mouth, it’s eager and quick, his head bobbing fast over my length. The slurping sounds alone make it all worth it, such a lewd display of what we’re doing. I let him work me for as long as he can before he pops up off me for air, breathing hard, his face flushed and his lips darkened with his actions. He licks his lips and stares up at me, his face full of his unspoken desire.

I flick my eyes toward the bed and give a soft hum. Within a moment, he’s up on the bed, shoving pillows under his lower back and spreading himself open for me, completely ready for my body to claim his own. I admire the view for a moment before reclaiming his sounding wand, the lube, and a condom from the drawer beside the bed.

Slowly, I lower myself to kneel between his thighs, watching how his hips buck up toward me, an invitation to take him. It’s so incredibly erotic and I can barely help myself. Rolling the condom on, I quickly discard the packaging and squirt lube onto my dick, coating myself in more than enough. The extra goes on the rod as I shift myself forward. Resting my arm on his knee, I guide myself to his entrance, pressing the head of my cock there and waiting until I feel the flutter of his muscle calm down. The moment I do, I thrust all the way in with a groan, seating myself fully inside him and stilling there. “Good god, you’re fucking tight.”

His legs clamp around me and his body arches up from the bed, his cock bobbing rapidly as he flexes his muscles. I can tell he could cum if he lets himself, the excitement of being filled like this almost too much for him. After a minute, he relaxes and I reach for his cock, stroking it a few times and then sliding the rod ever so slowly into him.

He whines and bucks up against me, obviously enjoying the way it feels to be filled in both ways like this.

“You like it?” I ask him softly, thrusting the rod in and out of him a few times, finally starting to move my hips in the same manner.

“O-oh god!” he cries out, straining up toward me. It’s the most erotic sight, his body all hard lines, filled with sweaty, delicious desperation. My own control is thinning with the way he’s responding to me. Soon enough I’ll be fucking him into the mattress, unable to hold it all back any longer, but for now, it’s sweet, sweet torture. He writhes under me as I stroke his cock in opposition to the thrusts of the rod. “Tell me, my sweet, tell me how much you love this.”

“Oh fuck, Die! I love it! I love it so goddamn much! I wanna cum! I wanna fucking cum!” He’s bucking his hips frantically, moving himself on my dick and pumping his cock in and out of my hand all of his own accord. It’s beautiful, a symphony of desperation. 

He’s almost at his end, I can see it written in the way his face is contorted, branded across the faint blush on his chest, carved into the rigid lines of his muscles as they stand out starkly beneath his skin. And it’s that moment that breaks me. I abandon all pretense of control, my body pressing over his, one hand still working his cock, stroking him as I use two fingers to move the rod inside him. I pound into him like I’ve never done before, using the full length of my cock to my advantage, the bed protesting under our combined efforts. He’s giving out these breathy little cries with each thrust I make and I’m reminded of how very much I like having vocal lovers.

A few more moments as he’s over the edge with a scream that rivals the vocalist of my own band. He clenches around me and then begins to spasm, his hole fluttering around my cock as I fuck him for all I’m worth. Cum splatters across his chest, warm between us as I lean into it a little more. Needing the leverage, I let go of his dick and grab fistfuls of the sheets on either side of him. I strain for it, my back arching and my hips pushing into him with an almost bruising force. It feels like heaven that’s welling up inside me. The fires of hell are fast on its heels, burning its way through my abdomen and then exploding in my core. His name is on my lips as I lose it, pleasure and relief finding me simultaneously. I pump though the whole thing, not wanting it to be over. I only stop when I can’t go on any longer, the pleasure overwhelming.

The minutes tick by and we stare at one another, our emotions unspoken but hanging in the air between us. When I finally move to get us both cleaned up a little bit, he finally speaks up.

“I’m never going to get tired of this.”

I toss a smirk over my shoulder at him and then laugh softly as I settle down between his legs, cleaning him up ever so gently. “I’d be afraid if you did.”

And I know in that very moment that this was built by fate for the pair of us. Distance be damned, we were meant to be, and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

**The End**


End file.
